


What's In A Name? (Does It Even Really Matter?)

by Vintageweedkiller



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Child Abuse, Drug Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Trigger Warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2020-02-27 17:31:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 11,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18743743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vintageweedkiller/pseuds/Vintageweedkiller
Summary: A modern au for William Shakespeare's Romeo & Juliet with a twist--everyone lives. Well, mostly everyone. Mercutio has everyone fake their own death and helps them run away to Denmark to reunite with a woman he'd met earlier, Bianca, for Romeo's own safety. Through the journey, many things are discovered, and lives are threatened. Be careful if you're sensitive to heavier topics, there will be some!





	1. Benvolio

First of all, if you’ve been shot in the side,  _ don’t _ pretend to die. It’s not funny. At all. I cried. 

Second of all, if you’ve been concocting a plan to evade a city and drive to Denmark of all places with your boyfriend, best friend, and best friend’s girlfriend (wife?) you should probably tell them through more conventional means. Mercutio does not understand conventional means. 

It all happened a bit fast for my liking, not to mention I was terrified all the same. I have no idea how Mercutio managed to plan this to a T, but he did and he was damn giddy about it. 

I was in some stranger’s house--thank god they were on Montague’s side or Mercutio  _ would’ve _ kicked the bucket--cradling my young lover’s body as he pretended to croak. He was no actor, but he pulled it off. The fact that he was in pain may have helped too. 

Once he thoroughly convinced me he was dead and scared me half shitless, his eyes snapped open and he snickered through pained, grit teeth. “Gotcha,” he wheezed.    
The poor woman who was sitting with me, aiding my grief seemed as equally as confused. 

“Mercutio?” I sobbed, pulling him close. “You’re okay?” 

“Yeah,” he said, wincing as I moved him. “Well, no, I’m in  _ so _ much pain, but I’m not going to die. It’s a flesh wound.” 

I was washed over with anger, pain, and sadness as I realized this was a prank he oh-so-loved to pull. 

“You jerk!” I shrieked through hot bubbling tears. “You better apologize!” 

“Later!” Mercutio moaned, holding his wounded side. “Lady, do you know surgery?” he begged. The woman shook her head ‘no’, but offered first aid to stop the bleeding, and to at  _ least _ make sure the bullet was removed. 

“Thank you,” Mercutio sighed. “Benvolio, my sweet Benvolio,” 

I grimaced. “What?” 

“Tell Tybalt I’m dead, It’ll calm his bloodlust, trust me.” 

“Why?” I started. “Do it!” Mercutio hissed. “Before it’s too late!” 

I was so confused, but I listened to him. He seemed to know what he was doing. I laid him down in the lady’s kitchen and sprinted out into the square. “Romeo!” I cried.    
My cousin, riddled with rage and sadness whipped around to me, tears roaring down his cheeks. “Benvolio! Mercutio?” he asked, unable to form coherent speech. 

“He’s,” I started, looking for Tybalt. He was conversing with his goons down the street. 

“He’s dead,” I yelled. “Tybalt Capulet murdered Mercutio! Nephew of the Prince!” 

Romeo had never been redder in the face, not even next to Rosaline. He was visibly shaking and suddenly I worried for the Capulet’s life. 

Admittedly, I was right to worry, for when Romeo finally stopped shaking, he began to sprint faster than anyone I’ve ever seen sprint before in my life towards Tybalt, gun blazing. It took no struggle on the Capulet’s behalf, as by the time he’d turned to see Romeo charging forward the bullet was already through his head and out the back. His face stayed a sly smirk, obscured by faint surprise as his body collapsed on the ground. I had no time to react, to try and stop it, because by the time my legs stopped feeling like cement, Romeo was standing over Tybalt’s body, breathing heavy and crying like a child ripped from his mother. 

“Romeo,” I breathed, my feet moving towards my cousin at rapid speeds. “Romeo!” I cried, my arms around his shoulders, frantically pulling him away. 

“He killed Mercutio!” Romeo protested. “He killed him!” 

“No!” I shouted, “Mercutio had this planned! He’s alive! He’s alive, Romeo!” 

The words didn’t register, but he seemed confused. “I was there,” he panted. “I saw it.” 

I refused to let him convince himself that this was all real, so I pulled him towards the house, panting and wheezing. “Come on, Romeo, come on!” 

 

_________

 

Romeo was stunned. He saw Mercutio smiling softly until the terror in Romeo’s voice clicked. “Romeo,” he breathed. I was shaking like a leaf. “Romeo, what happened?” 

“I…” my cousin started, cupping a hand to his mouth. “He…” 

“Did Tybalt hurt you?” Mercutio asked, sitting up and wincing. I was at least relieved to see that the sweet woman had patched him up nicely. 

“Romeo,” I started, patting my cousin’s arm gently. “Romeo killed Tybalt.” 

“He  _ what?” _ Mercutio gasped, sitting upright, pale in the face. “He killed him?” 

“He killed him,” I answered, fear shaking my voice. 

_ “Tybalt!” _ shrieked a woman. It was Lady Capulet, I could tell by her shrill voice alone. “Tybalt who did this!?” she sobbed. 

I swallowed hard. I couldn’t fathom what she’d do to Romeo when she found out. I felt like I was going to be sick. 

Mercutio sat up, still impossibly shocked by this news. “I was going to have this be a smoother operation, but…” he sat in thought. I was bewildered by how calm he was, but I knew inside he was panicking. “But we can still make this work. Romeo,” he said, voice shallow and cold. 

“What could work?” I asked, so close to fainting I preemptively crouched. 

“Romeo,” Mercutio started. “Get Rosaline--” 

“Juliet,” Romeo quietly corrected. 

“Get Juliet,” Mercutio continued. “And tell her to gather her belongings. Everything important. Clothes, sleeping necessities, everything. Immediately. We’re ditching Verona a little sooner than I’d planned.” 

“Ditching Verona?” I asked, sputtering. “But our families!” 

“Romeo’s in deep shit now, Benvolio,” Mercutio reminded. “He’s in danger while the Capulet’s stay around. The further we are from Verona, the safer Romeo is. By association, you as well.” 

Shit. I forgot I was a Montague. 

“Do you think It’ll work?” Romeo asked, coming out of his shock. He’d never killed a man before. Of course, he was shaken. 

“No,” Mercutio sighed. “I’m not sure. But If we work together, I think It could.” 

I forgot to breathe for a moment. “How will we leave the city without being detected?” 

“Ms. Bianca has allowed us to leave through her back door. She’s willing to help us as much as she can.” 

The lady, Bianca, smiled and nodded. “Anything to help you. I’m not sure what is going on, but I’d do anything to keep the streets blood-free.” 

“Wise,” I mumbled. I contemplated how Romeo and I would say goodbye to Aunt and Uncle. I assumed It’d be messy, with tears.    
“We can’t let my mother know,” Romeo said, breathlessly. 

“How will we leave then?” I asked. 

“Fake our deaths,” he blurted.    
The room went quiet. This was a lot to take in, and I was two more conclusions away from a panic attack. 

“Fake our deaths?” Mercutio asked. “I planned  _ mine _ , but how will you plan yours?” 

“I can ask Juliet for assistance,” he murmured, looking at me. “I’ll ask her to meet us in the Capulet’s garden, and she can pretend to stab us. The Friar has medicine to create a short-term coma. Long enough for us to be moved to the morgues. The Capulet’s will assume she killed us out of anger for murdering her cousin, and then, so overwhelmed by the blood on her hands, took her own life to spare the horror of her reality.” 

“Wow,” Mercutio breathed. “That’s dark.” 

“But will it work?” I asked, frankly overwhelmed. 

“Well,” Romeo breathed, meeting my eyes. “We’ll have to wait and see.” 


	2. Juliet

“You want me to  _ what? _ ” I asked, eyes wide in fear. Romeo and Benvolio were hidden in my garden behind a line of flowering trees, me standing in front of them to pose as though I was simply picking flowers. If mother saw Montague boys in our premises in broad daylight, I’d be in for it. 

“Pretend to kill us, then kill yourself!” Romeo whispered. He pretended this was something normal. Was he crazy? 

“Why?” I asked, nervously plucking a rose from its bush. The flower trembled in my grasp.    
“Because I killed Tybalt. By accident. I’m sorry.” 

I dropped the rose and felt every last ounce of breath from my body sucked out. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think. “You… You…?” 

“It was a misunderstanding,” Romeo started carefully. “Plus, he started it.” 

In the corner of my eye, I saw Benvolio jab his cousin in the chest with an elbow. 

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” the blond said, sympathy so rooted in his voice I almost forgot my fear and sadness. I never liked Tybalt, but for some reason I was grieving. “But if we don’t do this soon, Romeo could be killed for real. This is going to save our asses in the long run.” 

I couldn’t exactly understand what Benvolio was saying, but I figured if he was in on it, it was a cause worth joining. 

I crouched down next to them, my eyes threatening tears. “Okay, I’ll do it.” 

“You will?” Romeo asked. 

“I will,” I nodded, two tears falling from my cheeks. It was a lot. 

“Good,” Romeo agreed, pulling out three vials. “Pretend to stab us, we’ll drink this. It’ll put us under for 24 hours. When we fall, drink your own after you ‘committed suicide’. They’ll put us in the morgues and we’ll sneak out, meeting Mercutio at Verona’s gates.” 

“Mercutio is involved?” I asked. “Yeah,” Benvolio answered.

“Okay,” I breathed, taking one of Romeo’s vials and looking at it. 

“Don’t actually stab us,” Benvolio breathed, suddenly alarmed. 

“How will they be convinced?” I asked, suddenly confused. Romeo looked at me. How much I’d give to kiss him right now… “You can nic us with the blade,” he said softly. “No pressure, just a scratch. A big one. But a scratch nonetheless. Same goes for you.” 

“Okay,” I nodded, taking Benvolio’s hunting knife in my hands.    
“Come out into the Garden. I’ll cause a scene.”

 

_____

 

I was never a good actor, but Romeo and Benvolio were. They ran into the clearing as I ‘mourned Tybalt’s death’. I shrieked and sprinted at them, tears in my eyes, thrashing the blade. The two downed their bottles and staggered as I got them each in the stomach, sobbing as I heard Romeo’s (faux) agonized scream. When the Montague’s had fallen to the grass, finally asleep, I pretended to wipe the blood from my face and drank my own vial. The taste was bitter and made me gag, but I had no time to fret over palettes. I slashed my own chest with the dagger, groaning in actual pain as I fell in between the cousins, clenching the dagger as I felt the world around me disappear. I heard shouting, but they were far from me as I drifted into sleep. 


	3. Romeo

I wasn’t awake when my body told me I was cold. I slowly opened my eyes, shivering, reaching for a blanket only to realize I was not in bed, I was on a hard, cold slab of marble. The Capulet’s morgue. I sat up, groggy and dizzy. It was around nightfall, I’d wager 3 am? I’d have to tell the Friar his medicine was shorter than planned, but that was neither here nor there. I pulled the white linen over my shoulders, blinking to adjust to the darkness of the morgue before sliding off the marble slab and padding barefoot to my cousin, directly next to me on another stone slab. 

“Benvolio,” I whispered, touching his arm. He was just as cold as I was, but he was still out. I touched his pulse and breathed a sigh of relief. He was still alive. I shook his arm gently. “Benvolio, wake up.” 

He stirred, but did not wake. I sighed and looked around, eyes wide as I saw on the far end of the morgue a real cadaver. It was Tybalt, next to him Juliet’s sleeping body.    
I never liked Tybalt, not even as a cousin-in-law, but I felt I needed to apologize. As Benvolio slept off the medicine, I slowly made my way to Tybalt’s slab, and put a gently hand on his own. His skin was clammy and cold, paled and drained of all the life It’s always had. I swallowed hard as I crossed a hand over my chest. “May you rest well, Tybalt Capulet,” I breathed. “I’m sorry I did this to you, brother.” 

I sighed a small goodbye before looking past Tybalt, and seeing Juliet waking. 

“Juliet,” I breathed. I made my round about the slab and touched her shoulder. She was dressed in a white silk dress with a soft veil over her pale face. I was so endeared by her, that when her eyes fluttered open I didn’t realize. 

“Romeo?” she asked quietly. I snapped back to reality and touched her cheek. “Yes, dear, it’s me.” 

“Where are we?” she asked, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. 

“The Capulet’s Morgue,” I answered. “When Benvolio wakes up--” 

“Tybalt,” Juliet breathed, her voice a shallow whisper. She nudged past me and slipped off the slab, moving to her own cousin and touching his chest. “Oh, Tybalt.” 

I swallowed hard, guilt flooding my system. 

“I…” 

Juliet shook her head, looking at Tybalt with hardly any emotion on her face. “This is your fault, Tybalt. I hate you. I’m sorry Tybalt. I’m sorry.” 

She wiped a small tear from her face before recomposing herself and turning to me. “Let’s get Benvolio and go meet Mercutio.” 

I nodded and noticed a pile of clothes on each of our slabs. Upon reading Juliet’s it read: 

_ Got you some of your belongings from your Nurses’ laundry.  _

_ Good luck.  _

_ \- Bianca  _

I smiled softly before I heard Benvolio sit up. “Romeo,” he said, voice hoarse. “It’s dark.” 

“Yeah, I nodded. We gotta go now. Get your things, we’re going to figure out what that madman Mercutio has planned for us.” 

Benvolio blinked, touching the bundle of clothes gently before nodding. “Alright.” 


	4. Mercutio

 

It was nearing dawn when Benvolio returned to me, Romeo and his new lover, Juliet trailing behind. I was never so happy to see a Capulet in my  _ life _ , but this Juliet girl aided in our great escape. 

“Juliet, is it?” I asked, taking the girl’s hand. She seemed young, possibly no older than 15, 16 maybe.

“Yes, you must be Mercutio,” she nodded. “Romeo speaks fondly of you.” 

Her hand was cold and clammy, and I felt bad. I knew the catacombs of this ancient town were cold and miserable. I felt pity on all three of them. “He does, does he?” I asked, looking to the Montague in question. He looked dazed but determined. Each of them did. They all wore white silk and linen, their faces pale and hair perfectly ready for a funeral. I felt wildly uncomfortable. 

“Come on,” I said, kissing Juliet’s knuckles as I turned to the gates. “You can get dressed in my car.” 

“Car?” Benvolio asked, yawning. 

“Of course,” I answered, a bit tired of their delayed minds already. What was in that stupid potion? “I’ll put the hood up.” 

“Mm,” Benvolio mumbled, resting his head against mine. He was significantly taller than I was, but I couldn’t get mad at him. He was doing all of this for me. He would’ve been fine staying behind in Verona. He didn’t have anyone’s blood on his hands. 

After Romeo blinked a few times, he nodded. Each of the three was clutching their own belongings, sent by Bianca at my request. Bianca was sleeping, surely, but she agreed to meet us in Denmark. She too needed out of Verona. 

I lead the three to my car (a shiny red Corvette, the retro kind, not to brag but) and helped them in after putting up the roof. I’d gotten my car out from my Uncle’s mansion quietly, and pulled it to the slums of Verona, subsequently, where the gate was. The gates were seldom watched, so it was a fairly smooth operation. If anyone saw, they were probably too loaded on crack to believe it. 

I sat in the driver’s seat, resting my hands on the steering wheel. I thought about Valentine, my younger brother by 6 years. I hadn’t told him about any of this, and there was a lasting wash of guilt. Valentine was so young, only 14, and It hurt me to see his only true family leave him. 

“He thinks I’m dead,” I whispered to myself. “He’ll be okay.” 

“Huh?” asked Benvolio. He was behind me in the back, next to Juliet. Looking in the rear-view, he was now wearing one of the tye-dye shirts he made at camp with me the summer before this one, and a pair of sweat pants he always wore to bed. His hair was messier now, and the color was coming back to his face. “Nothing,” I said, louder now. “Just thinking about this whole thing.” 

Benvolio reached forward, placing a hand on the back of my shoulder from behind my seat’s headrest, and I immediately rested my head against his touch. “It’ll be alright,” Benvolio said. “We’ll figure it out.”    
“Mhm,” I hummed. “We will.” 

It was another moment or so before anyone spoke. Juliet was having trouble seeing which way her shirt went in the dark of the car, and Benvolio had to help her, where Romeo just decided not to put on pants, seeing as it was a struggle to do in the cramped space of my car. Oops. 

“Ready to go?” I finally asked, looking in the rear-view. 

Benvolio nodded and Juliet sighed contently. I noticed she had a pink stuffed deer doll. I assumed her mother or someone close had left it on her pre-grave.

I looked to Romeo who was dozing off and nodded quietly. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”    
I turned the car on, let it purr for a moment, buckled up (and buckled Romeo up, too), before peeling out of Verona’s gates like hell on wheels. The windows were down until we strayed far enough from Verona for anyone to recognize us, then did I put the top down. It felt like I’d been set free from a cage I’d never known I’d been in, with the dawn wind in my hair, the whoops, and hollers from Juliet, and the sun just peaking the horizon, I felt for the first time in a long time, truly alive.


	5. Benvolio

 

I’d fallen asleep somewhere between leaving Italy and entering Slovenia. I was half-asleep while Mercutio was explaining we’d be taking a longer approach to Denmark, and by longer, he meant we’d be driving along the outskirts of Eastern Europe and Western Europe, so It’d take some time to actually  _ get _ there. 

When I woke up, we stopped. The hood was down and I was the only one in the car. I sat up, looking around. It must’ve been 7 am. “Mercutio?” I asked quietly. 

I saw Romeo’s head pop up from the hood of the car, dark smudges on his face. After a quick look around we were at a gas station. 

“Oh! You’re awake,” Romeo said, chuckling. “We thought you’d never wake up. There’s some water by your feet and some chips.” 

“Oh,” I mumbled, picking up the water bottle and taking a quick sip. For only 7 it was really hot. “Where’s Mercutio?” 

“Inside,” Romeo said, ducking back under the hood. I could smell gas now. Something must’ve happened. “He’s with Juliet, too. They wanted out of the heat, and since I’m the only one who knows how cars are  _ supposed _ to work, I’m on ‘why the hell isn’t the car starting?’ duty.” 

I couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing Romeo so worked up was delightful. I opened my door and stepped out, walking to my cousin and patting his shoulder. “You’re doing great, big guy.” 

I decided to meet everyone inside. The gas station was small. Like,  _ really _ small. Like It took me no time at all to see Mercutio and Juliet talking by the slushee vendor and the small Slovenian girl at the register. 

“Hey guys,” I said, looking around. It smelled cold. 

“Benvolio!” Mercutio hummed, sliding off the counter and bouncing over to me. He weaved a hand around my waist and leaned me down, pressing a long kiss to my lips. I felt this radically inappropriate, seeing as this was a dead ringer that he wanted something from me, and we were in a gas station in the middle of Slovenia while Juliet was staring. 

He pulled me up from sweeping me off my feet and ruffled my hair. I huffed. “Not now, Mercutio.” 

“Yes now, Mercutio,” he hummed, kissing my neck. Ultimately deciding now was  _ not the time _ , I pushed him back a bit and regained posture. I could feel my cheeks red and hot from the gesture but decided it was best to disregard it. “Hello Juliet, how are you?” 

I walked to my new friend and leaned on the counter she was perched on. Juliet was smiling. “I’m good. Quite the show you put on, hm?” 

“Oh shut up,” I grumbled. Mercutio came up behind me and held my waist, firmly gripping my behind in his hand. I suppressed a squeal.    
“Would you like more, sweet Juliet?” Mercutio purred, his breath hot on my ear. I struggled to twist around and pushed him back once more, this time with a bit more force. “Escalus so help me,” I began. With hands in the air to surrender, Mercutio chuckled. “Alright, alright. I got it, no funny business in public places.” 

“That’s right,” I grumbled. 

“You’re a riot, Mercutio,” Juliet said, giggling into her hand. I noticed she seemed… underdressed. Her outfit was a thin pink crop top that said ‘baby girl’ in a cursive font, as well as a pair of what I could only assume,  were slumber shorts seeing as they hardly covered her pale skin. I felt bad, somehow. 

Mercutio had shifted his attention to the slushee machine now and was loading up a large cup with a blue raspberry and ‘coke’ flavor blend. I didn’t like sugar that much, but Mercutio adored it. He was practically salivating as the mushy blend filled his cup, and once absolutely pushing the limit of the cup’s volume, he licked up the overflow with an almost sensual motion. I knew better and looked away. 

Juliet saw me fuming and laughed, slapping a hand on my shoulder. “You got it bad, Benvolio Montague! You got it  _ bad! _ ” 

“You do too, Ms. Capulet. You fell head-over-heels for my cousin the second you met him!”    
“Oh shut up! It’s true love, Benvolio!” 

“And Mercutio and my own is not?” 

Juliet paused, pursing her lips. “Possibly. I haven’t gotten to know either of you very well. I’m positive that Mercutio hates my blood as much as the next Montague would.” 

I sighed. “He’s no Montague, Juliet.” I pushed myself onto the counter to sit by her, my eyes on Mercutio. He was downing the slushee as well as dancing to an American pop song I couldn’t understand. “He’s an Escalus. Surely you knew that” I mumbled, not looking to Juliet.

“I didn’t.” Her voice was surprised, but I didn’t entirely blame her. With how Mercutio acted and how much he’d give to my family was a bit too much and boarded on the offensive to anyone who  _ wasn’t _ a Montague, siding with us or not. It was easy to forget he was the Prince’s nephew sometimes. 

“That’s fair,” I shrugged. “He acts like one of us.” 

“He won’t be an Escalus for long,” Juliet said, painfully naive that she was talking aloud. “Pardon?” I asked, finally turning to her. She seemed a bit caught off guard by me actually hearing her, before tilting her head as if I didn’t get what she was saying. “I mean, I’m only assuming he’ll be taking your name when you, too, marry. Unless you want to be apart of the royal family, which I doubt would ever happen seeing as you both are supposed to be  _ dead _ .” 

I was frankly quite surprised by her ease in assumption. People often said that Juliet Capulet was a calculative person for all the wrong reasons, but this little conversation proved it. 

“I don’t think we’re getting married,” I said, turning back to Mercutio who was now munching some chips while hassling the poor cashier. 

“You don’t?” Juliet asked, shocked. “It’s obvious you two are meant for each other. I know fated lovers when I see them.” 

I chuckled at that. “Sure. But,” I started, not exactly sure how I’d end the thought. “... Mercutio is… something else. I don’t think he’d be the one to settle down. I don’t think he’d like the idea of being anchored to me forever.”    
“Are you saying he’s unloyal?” Juliet offered. 

“Oh, no! Not at all!” I chuckled at the thought. “No, no, but… I just don’t think he’d be up for it. At the very least not any time soon. We’re not like you and Romeo.” 

“I can tell,” Juliet snorted, looking away. 

“Not like that, Juliet!” I chided, such a childish girl. “I mean, Mercutio doesn’t believe in love. He believes in a lot of things, but not love. I’ve been with him for the upwards of 5 years now, only officially making it a ‘thing’ late last year, and he’s never once  _ said _ ‘I love you’. He’s done it, he does it every day, but I think he’s afraid of the word. Like the second he says it, it’ll gobble him up whole and he’d be stuck in a situation he’d never be able to get out of.”    
Juliet was quiet. 

“Like I don’t think we’ll ever leave each other, we’ve been together since I can remember, and I’m almost positive that I’m the only person in the world he has yet to get sick of, but…” 

“But…?” 

I swallowed hard. “But I just don’t think he has time for fickle things like love.” 

“That’s very sad, Benvolio,” Juliet said. I could see her blue eyes dim with pitiful despair. 

“I don’t think so,” I said, shrugging. “I know he loves me, there’s no doubt in that, it’s just the word he’s afraid of.” 

Everyone was quiet before Mercutio came over laughing. “Friends! I’ve got snacks, let’s head back to the car and check on sweet Romeo. I’m sure the car is up and running now!” 

Juliet smiled and I nodded as we both slid off the counter. “Right, let’s head out.” 

“Let’s,” Juliet agreed. 

And we did. We left the gas station and that dull conversation behind us. 


	6. Romeo

I was closing the hood as I heard Mercutio and the others burst out of the gas station with their hands full of chips, bottles of sodas, and other sugary crap. I sighed and leaned against the hood, wiping the oil from my cheek with the back of my wrist. “I’m assuming the expedition was a green light?” 

“Greenlight go, go, go!” Mercutio purred, handing me a bag of low-calorie low sodium, low _ everything _ popcorn chips. I sighed and opened them up, popping a chip into my mouth. Juliet met my side and rested her head on my shoulder. “Juliet,” I hummed. “Your hair is going to get dirty if you keep it down like that.” 

“Huh?” Juliet looked down at her hair, which was far longer than her feet, pushing it away from her back to lift it from the dirty gravel ground. “Oh,” she said quietly. “I don’t have any way to put it up.” 

“I’m sure Mercutio can find something,” I mumbled, holding her close, setting the bag up on the hood of the car. 

Benvolio smiled and slid into the driver’s seat, leaning over the windshield to see us better. “Riveting conversation. What time is it?” 

I checked my watch. “Almost 8:30.” 

“Have either of you slept?” Benvolio asked, wide-eyed. 

“I did, as soon as Mercutio started driving,” I answered. I hated to admit it, but when I woke up I was thankful he at least buckled me up. 

Yawning, Juliet disagreed. “No, I didn’t…  _ someone _ had to keep Mercutio awake.” 

I looked at my friend who was chugging a slushee while laying along the trunk. He didn’t sleep either? 

I moved from Juliet’s side and walked over to my friend. “Mercutio?” 

“Hm?” He asked. Upon further glance, his eyes were weary and tired, and he was awfully pale. I put a hand on the slushee cup, lowering it. “You…  _ don’t _ need more sugar.” 

“How else will I gain eternal power? If I sleep, I lose!” he proclaimed. I sighed. I loved my friend so dearly, but he tested me often. “No, you need rest. I can tell you’re tired. I can tell you’ve been left with your own thoughts for far too long.” 

Mercutio’s smile softened until his lips formed a downturned line. He was impossible to read, but I’ve studied his language before. “Is it obvious?” he asked, quietly. 

I nodded, taking his shoulder and pulling him off to the side. I looked over my shoulder and saw Benvolio getting up, only to read my face and sit back down. I could handle this. 

“Mercutio,” I started after sitting him down next to a tree, crouching in front of him with a hand on his shoulder. For a man so young, I’d never seen him so harrowed. His hand fell absently onto his shot wound. “What’s wrong?” 

He swallowed. “Nothing,” he whispered. 

I knew it wasn’t nothing, but if it mattered to Mercutio, he’d tell me. I sat with him until his lips parted, the words almost nothing at all between his thoughts.

“It happened so fast.” 

“It was my fault, Mercutio,” I breathed. “I’m so sorry. I… I wasn’t…” 

Mercutio finally met my eyes, dull and tired. We both knew who was right. “No.” he lied. 

I knew better than to fight him on this, Mercutio could shut a conversation down without words if he really wanted to. 

“Do you need to be alone?” 

No answer.

I knew what he was thinking about, there was that look, I could just  _ tell. _ He was thinking about Valentine. 

I looked down, my eyes resting on a blade of grass. 

“Okay,” I sighed, followed by a small tongue smack. I stood up, my eyes lingering on Mercutio for a moment, watching as he pulled his legs up to his chest and looked away, his dark, wavy hair hiding his face from me, and then I walked to Juliet and Benvolio. 

“Romeo,” Benvolio asked more than said, getting out of the car. I knew he was watching us. “No.” I shook my head. “He needs to be alone.” 

“Alone?” Benvolio asked. I saw his eyes flicker from Mercutio back to me, betrayal in his spirit.

“Benvolio,” I started. 

Juliet moved to hug my cousin, and somehow I understood what he was feeling. He was feeling alone.

“I just want to make him happy,” Benvolio whispered, sharing that same quiet phantom tone Mercutio had just mumbled to me. “I know,” Juliet said. “He’ll be okay.” 

“He’ll be okay,” I reassured. “We all need time to process what’s happening. He misses his brother.” 

“I miss him,” Benvolio grunted, peeling away from Juliet’s arms, moving to lean against the hood of the car with his arms crossed. 

I was normally very good with my words, I could make anyone feel better If I tried, but with both friends of mine down, I felt like my tongue had failed me. I looked to Juliet. She was braiding a long strand of bright orange hair between her fingers, trying to keep her mind off of the fact that we were now criminals by proper definition. I bit my lip and moved to hug her, to which she outwardly accepted, her arms moving to cradle my sides, resting her forehead in my shoulder. “What will happen to us?” she whispered. 

“We will prosper and survive,” I answered. 

Nodding, Juliet agreed. “Sure, there’s no one to hurt us out here.” 

“Besides ourselves,” I mumbled. Her blue eyes flickered up to meet mine, and there was a scared sort of understanding. “Do you think we’ll rip each other limb for limb just to escape  _ real  _ consequence?” 

“Maybe,” I sighed. “But let’s not worry about that right now. Let’s just keep our mind on getting as far from Verona as possible.” 

“Sounds good,” Juliet nodded. “Let’s gather the boys and get going, the sun’s nearly in the sky.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the slow progress, I have finals coming up and my inspiration fluctuates. I'll be posting chapter by chapter from now on instead of that 5 chapter dump I did a while back. constructive criticism and compliments are accepted!   
>  \- Noah


	7. Juliet

I never doubted anything in life before this. I never really  _ had _ to, everything was laid out for me, and I had no say whatsoever in my decisions. Maybe that was wrong, yeah, but at least I didn’t have to worry about anything for the longest time. 

But now it was different. Now I didn’t have my nurse, or my mother, or even Tybalt, gently holding my hand and guiding me where to go. Now, I was alone. 

We were cruising down the highway, me still in the back as Benvolio sat beside me, and Mercutio manning the car while Romeo sat calmly behind him. 

I hadn’t really said anything to anyone today, and I suppose Benvolio had noticed it. 

“Juliet?” he asked, pulling his headphones down. “You’re pale. Are you feeling well?” 

I turned to him, unaware that I’d been not only zoning out but probably looked a bit ill. 

“Oh, I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.” I pulled my legs up to my chest and rested my cheek on my kneecaps, smiling. “I’m just thinking.” 

“Seems we’re all doing that,” Benvolio sighed, turning to me and pulling his legs up onto the leather Corvette’s seats. “Maybe we should turn our brains off. Live a little.” 

“No,” I mused, scrunching up my nose. “I’d rather think, gives me a personality, and you know, human function.” 

“Right,” Benvolio chuckled, looking ahead. “I guess this is new for you, huh? Being so far from home?” 

I followed his gaze to the hills in the forefront and sighed an “I guess. Mother never really let me go anywhere, let alone out of Verona. I’m a little homesick.” 

“That makes enough sense,” Benvolio nodded, rolling his shoulders in what I assumed was a brief attempt to relax. “Romeo and I were allowed to really go anywhere as long as we kept an eye out for danger. Mercutio often tagged along,” he explained, leaning up to pat his boyfriend’s shoulder, who chuckled and reached a hand to tap Benvolio’s hand. 

“We were free to do anything we please,” Benvolio continued, drawing his hand back. I glanced at Romeo who was zoning far out into the scenery. 

“Must’ve been fun,” I mumbled. “I’d never even been in a car before. Things were so close in Verona, I just had to walk.” 

“Wow,” Mercutio cut in, glancing at me in the rear window. “That’s kinda shitty.” 

I met his eyes and inhaled deeply, resting my chin on my knees. I finally saw myself in the mirror when he moved his head back, I looked tired and grey and my hair was growing unkept and tangled, but It was hard to tell with it trailing behind the car whipping with the wind so violently. “Oh, jeez,” I breathed. “I look bad.” 

Benvolio glanced at me from the corner of his eye, sighing. “Maybe you should rest, Juliet, you and Mercutio have been awake for a long time.” 

I yawned quietly at the mention of sleep and pressed my wrist to my mouth to keep it hidden. “But..” 

“We’ll keep Mercutio entertained until you wake up,” Benvolio said, cutting me short. He glanced at Romeo and nodded. “We’ll switch spots at a rest stop. How long, Babe?” 

Mercutio glanced at the rear-view again, acknowledging Benvolio’s question before checking the road signs. 

“Thirty miles.” 

“Okay, Juliet,” Benvolio continued. “We’ll switch out in thirty miles. Until then, at  _ least _ close your eyes.” 

I looked at him, almost pleading to stay awake, but now that I was painfully aware of just how tired I was, it was getting harder and harder to disagree. “Well... I guess so… maybe…” I rested my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes, my hands slipping off my knees and falling to my sides as my legs did the same, only to clunkily fall at the floor of the car. As I dizzily faded in and out of consciousness, I wondered how silly I looked, splayed out like a starfish in the backseat of Mercutio’s car, and just a breath’s length of time, I wondered how upsetting I must’ve looked to my family, folded neatly and prettily next to my cousin; dead until further notice.


	8. Mercutio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some risque mentions ahead!

 

Romeo decided to take my place once we’d pulled into a parking lot. He’d carried Juliet into the passenger’s seat, her sleeping face unbothered by the adjustment. I watched with serene quietness, swallowing hard as I drifted into thought. My breath hitched quietly in my throat as Juliet’s face faded into Benvolio’s in my thoughts. Suddenly, my mind replaced the car with my soft sheets, and the hot humid Europe sun faded into a cool, periwinkle haze under Verona’s midnight sky. For what seemed like a moment suspended in forever, I was no longer the Mercutio that stood, hot and sweaty as we ran far from Verona, I was the Mercutio that gently kissed Benvolio’s pale, cold collarbone. I was the Mercutio that moved with the Montague’s soft touch, fingers fluttering down my spine as he gently grazed my cold skin. The Mercutio that felt the depths of Benvolio’s love, lips soft and cool as they met mine, hair tangled together in a mauve-blond mess. Hands weaved together, tensing and squeezing as a strong feeling surged through us both, causing a voice so soft and quiet I could’ve barely heard it sing out into the dark wisps of night.    
But that was not the Mercutio I am now. I am the Mercutio who’s dark plum hair stuck sticky and sweaty to his forehead, the Mercutio who’s vague heat had made his body twitch and stutter. The Mercutio who was now realizing how  _ much _ he missed his sweet Montague. 

The Mercutio whose eyes had met that sweet Montague’s, and whose smile spread like warm honey across my face. 

I moved from leaning against the Driver’s door and then to the back seat where Benvolio sat, opening the door and pulling his arms around my neck, kissing his gentle lips. 

“Are you scared?” he breathed, our foreheads touching in a gentle moment of love. 

“Endlessly,” I whispered. “Endlessly fearful of hurting you, leaving you…” 

Benvolio’s cool blue eyes deepened for a frightening moment, and for a second I’d worried my antics had cost me the boy I so deeply cared for. But, my anxiety settled when those same blue eyes rolled sarcastically. “As much as I  _ love _ when you wax poetic, I’m serious.” 

“You always are,” I breathed. I pulled away from his embrace to lean against the open car door, looking at him intently. For some reason, I felt as though if I looked away for a mere second, my Sweet Montague would disappear. 

“Maybe, but this is more than usual, Escalus. We’re criminals now. We’re technically dead to the entire country of Italy save for Bianca, and we’re driving on the outskirts of Eastern Europe just to avoid trouble and stay as far from Verona as possible. I’m asking if you’re scared of anything I just said.” 

As much as I wanted to admit to Benvolio that I was, indeed, scared shitless of the consequences of our actions; that for once, Verona’s one and only Mercutio Escalus:  _ Prankster Extraordinaire  _ was genuinely terrified of the very essence of what could happen to not only him, but to his boyfriend, best friend, and his best friend’s girlfriend-wife… I couldn’t. I couldn’t let the group worry that much. For  _ years _ I’d been a stable indication of how far up Shit Creek we were, and I sure as hell couldn’t let my friends know I lost the paddle a while back. 

No, fuck that. 

“Benvolio,” I finally answered. The second I had drifted into thought was just that, a second, but a second lost in my own brain was eons-long for me. “I’m only scared of two things: losing you, and strict drug laws. You know that. I’ve got this under control,” I blatantly lied. If it comforted the only man in the entire biosphere who actually mattered to me, then I’d tell a billion lies. “Just sit back and enjoy the road trip.” 

Benvolio had an aura of ‘I’m never convinced anything anyone says is absolutely true, but I suppose I can believe you if it takes a load off of my foggy conscience’ around him, and God, was it potent now. 

“Alright,” he sighed. “I guess I’ll go along for this bizarre joyride you’ve got us all in for.” 

“Good,” I mused, pushing myself off of the car door and slamming it shut, making my way around the back of my car and sliding into the seat next to my boyfriend. 

“But,” he started. 

I stopped mid-door close. “Shit. But…?”

He was staring holes into the side of my skull, I knew I was in for it now. “Only if you swear to me,  _ on Valentine _ , you’ll make sure we’re safe-- and that means you too, Mercutio.”

I swallowed hard at the mention of my brother but calmly ignored it, shutting the door silently and turning to Benvolio with a smug, shit eating grin on my face. “Of  _ course _ , Sweet Benvolio! Anything for you! Is there anything else I must do to please you?” I fluttered my eyelashes for extra effect. 

“Yeah, actually,” he chuckled, staring ahead, finally relaxing into a smug smile that mirrored mine. “And what would that be?” 

“You owe me  _ big _ time next time we have a bed. You’re gonna fuck my brains out as an apology for getting us into this mess.” 

“Ohohoh,” I chuckled, rubbing my hands together deviously. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Benvolio! Consider it done!”    
“Good,” he sighed, smiling softly. “That ought’a clear our consciences for a little.” 

Oh, little did he know. My conscience weighed on me like a fucking  _ cement brick. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the hold up! Summer's finally here, so it's up to you guys to keep me motivated for this fic! I've got big plans!   
>  \- Noah


	9. Romeo

 

Have you ever gotten sick of a car? I’ve always wanted one, when I was a kid I fantasized of the exact same car Mercutio has now, but now that I’ve been driving it for the past 5 hours I can’t say I feel the same. 

I pulled into a parking lot and gripped the steering wheel. Juliet looked at me and blinked. “Romeo?” 

Her eyes narrowed and she grabbed my arm. “Romeo.” 

“I’m just tired.” I looked at her and smiled softly. “Just tired.” 

“You don’t look tired, you look  _ sick. _ ” 

I shook my head. “I think we’ve been driving too long, carsick, homesick, sick-sick.” I didn’t want to tell her how desperate I was to take a nap. “Can you check your phone? I’m not sleeping in this car again.” 

Juliet stared at me for a brief second that felt like a lifetime before pulling out her phone. It had the Capulet’s Women’s crest, a rose, on the case. I waited quietly for her to get a motel or,  _ whatever _ ’s location. 

As Juliet looked I found my sleepy eyes wandering. We were in a carpool parking lot, probably in Hungary by now, and it was night. I looked at the lampposts and wondered how old they were, and the gum spots on the asphalt and wondered how old  _ they _ were, and I looked at my hands and wondered how old  _ I _ was. I felt lost. I felt bad. 

“Don’t think, It’s bad for your psyche,” I heard a voice speak behind me. It was Mercutio. He had been whispering to Benvolio the entire five hours we drove. I guess this escape was worrying us all. 

“I like thinking,” I mumbled. “It passes the time.” 

“You’ll get lost in the maze of thoughts,” Mercutio argued, moving forward and resting his cheek on my seat. I glanced at his mauve mess of a hairstyle and sighed. “I may,” I shrugged. “But anything would be better than waiting for the clock to tick away. Juliet, did you find anything?” 

“Yeah, a motel a half a mile away from here. It’s called Otthon távol az otthontól. Wanna give it a shot? It’s cheap.” 

“Why not?” I shrugged. I looked in the rear-view and saw my cousin’s eyes meet mine. I wondered what he was thinking. Benvolio Montague lost both parents to illnesses before he turned 8, his father to lung cancer and mother to a heart complication. He probably missed my parents, but I doubt he was as broken up about it as I was. I tried to imagine his world, how he felt. I never really  _ did _ that. I never really thought about people other than myself. My mother told me her sister was a wise and caring woman, and she loved her only son very much. Her name was Margherita, but I didn’t know her. She died before I really could make a substantial memory of her. I imagined she looked like Benvolio, fluffy blonde hair and a warm, inviting smile, but that’s all I could muster--an image I made up in my mind. 

“Romeo?” 

“Huh?” 

I blinked and shook my head, looking at Juliet. “What’s wrong, Romeo?” 

“Nothing,” I lied. Something was bugging me, but what? And why? 

“Well, here are the directions,” she murmured, attaching her phone to the holder on the windshield. “This parking lot gives me the heebie-jeebies, let’s get out of it.” 

“Alright,” I agreed, beginning to pull out. Before I turned to leave the lot I looked at my cousin again. Something hurt me deeply about Benvolio, but I couldn’t pinpoint why, and every part of me didn’t want to. 

Benvolio Montague, out of everyone, why you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient guys! This will be my magnum opus, I swear it just takes time for me to get my brain on a doc.


	10. Benvolio

I dropped my bags and looked around the room. It was definitely a motel. 2 queen size beds that were lumpy and stained, 4 pillows on each that looked freshly confiscated from a crime scene cleanup, cracked walls, a broken wired phone, a window with a bullet hole just barely shattering it, and crusty carpet. I decided to keep my shoes on. 

“Home away from home, huh?” I looked at Mercutio. He didn’t seem very here. 

“Not that bad,” he mumbled, placing his stuff on the bed. I watched him suck all the saliva out of his mouth and swallow hard. 

“Mercutio?” 

He looked at me, eyebrows raised in a silent ‘hm?’ 

“Yeah?” 

I bit my lower lip and shook my head. “Nevermind. Which bed do you wanna leave our stuff on?” 

He glanced at the one closest to the window, the one that looked less fortunate. “That one.” 

I nodded firmly and tossed my stuff onto it, falling backward onto the uncomfortable yet favorably more ideal bed closest to the dingy bathroom. “Tired…” 

“Yeah,” Mercutio agreed. “It’s been a crazy two days.” 

I looked at him. It felt like forever since he’d instigated a fight and subsequentially got us all tickets out of Verona, but I guess that was only me. Everything  _ he _ left behind, I was fortunate enough to bring along. 

“Hey,” I started slowly, turning onto my stomach and reaching up to cup his cheek. He stopped unpacking and sighed. 

“Are you okay?” I asked. 

“I’m okay,” he lied. “Really.” 

I shook my head gently and moved to sit on my knees, closing his suitcase and pulling him onto the bed. “No, no you’re not. What’s the matter?”    
“Benvolio, really, I’m fine.” 

I sighed and pulled him into a hug. I swore, he’d drive me mad. “Mercutio, don’t lie to me.” 

Silence. 

He slowly brought his arms around my back and I gently laid back, bringing him with me. “Tell me. Whisper it, no one will hear.” 

“No one but us,” he murmured. We said that: whisper so no one but us will hear, it made Mercutio feel safe. Let him allow his guard to come down. 

“Exactly. Tell me,” I whispered into his hair. 

He laid against my shoulder, eyes closed. “Swear you’ll forget tomorrow.” 

“I swear.” 

He turned his head, the harsh yellow light creating an almost angelic visage to him. His eyes were deep as ever, full of swirling mysteries I couldn’t imagine solving in this lifetime. They were youthful and young,  but wise and knowing beyond his years just to add juxtaposition. Juxtaposition. That was, in essence, Mercutio Esclaus. Everything you  _ think _ you know, you just don’t. It’s baffling how bizarre Mercutio was. I was endlessly intrigued by him. I needed to know more. 

“I feel like I’m dying,” he whispered. “Like I’m a husk. I haven’t used, I haven’t drunk, smoked, anything.” he closed his eyes and clenched his fists. I hated his addictions, but they kept him alive. Kept him stable. 

“It all hurts so bad. My chest  _ burns _ , I’m in pain. I want to die.” 

“You’re not allowed to,” I said. “Not without me.” 

“I know,” he nodded, touching my cheek. “I know.” 

We watched each other's eyes in silence, a shared thought in our heads.  _ I love you _ . 

Finally, Mercutio spoke again. “I miss my brother. He thinks I’m dead.” 

“Everyone thinks we’re dead.” 

“I wish I was.” 

“Stop.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” 

I shook my head. “It’s okay.” 

Mercutio sighed deeply, rolling onto his shoulder and pressing his forehead to mine. “I wish I could’ve brought him with me.” 

“I know. Valentine would’ve loved to.” I kissed his forehead and hugged him gently. “Maybe someday we can find him again. Someday soon. Someday when they’ve all forgotten.” 

“Yeah, they’ll forget us alright.” 

A stubborn silence filled the space between us, and I felt my chest heave, something burning in my eyes. My eyebrows creased together. I was crying. “I would do anything for you,” I whispered, hot tears flicking off my eyelashes. “I’d do anything to protect you. Don’t let it kill you, don’t let this take my boy away.” 

I held him close, my voice stuck behind the strangled breath caught in my throat. 

Mercutio looked at me, the gloss of newborn tears in his eyes as he mouthed a soft  _ I won’t _ . 

“Don’t go,” I barely managed. “Don’t leave me like this. Not when we  _ need _  each other.” 

I moved to cup his cheeks, crying silently and hard against him, my chest heaving hard. “Not when I need you. I love you.” 

He shook his head and placed it under my chin, kissing my collar bone with a fragileness I’d never felt before. “I can’t promise you anything.” 

My heart became cold, my stomach a pit of knives. 

“But I will try my damndest, Benvolio. I swear I’ll  _ try _ .” 

The feeling of loss didn’t leave me; even as we fell asleep in each other's arms, he felt so far away. 

I was terrified. 

I was so scared I’d wake up in the morning and all the work and effort I’d put into  _ one person _ would be wiped away. Deleted. Gone, for nothing, dead and useless, all the stupid synonyms for the word  _ over _ . 

When my eyes opened, and I felt the warmth of a person against my chest, felt his breath cool from his nostrils, heard his breathing lulled by sleep, and knew he was right in front of me, knew he wasn’t going anywhere… 

  
  


… I suddenly didn’t feel so afraid. 


	11. Juliet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW! Drug use

I woke up to a note. 

Benvolio and I are out getting food. 

\- Romeo

Huh. Okay. 

I rubbed my eyes and sat up, stretching. The room was cold. I was cold. I felt  _ cold _ . 

I slid out of bed and walked to the bathroom, looking at myself. Why did I look so bad? There were dark circles under my eyes, and I looked grey as before. But for some reason, I felt like if I stood there too long, I could convince myself I was really dead. And that scared me. 

I glanced at the sink, a fuzzy sensation coming over my eyes, turning them into a bug’s eye view of the world, kaleidoscopes, and then they were gone. Two hot tears replaced the sensation. The sensation didn’t come back either, because my eyes looked back at my reflection. I was crying. 

I opened my mouth and let myself cry. I felt bad for Juliet Capulet, and I let myself feel that way.

I stood there, in a pair of jeans from the day before and short-sleeve band shirt I’d never even heard of, crying in front of a mirror in God Knows Where Hungary because everything was falling apart for a few minutes. 

And then the tears stopped. 

A strange numbness flooded my heart, and I couldn’t stand looking at myself anymore. I couldn’t stand being myself anymore. 

I walked out of the bathroom and went through my set of clothes. Only 3 outfits, including the one I was wearing now. I’d need to go shopping. 

I slipped on the crop-top I’d bought a summer ago, and some sweatpants I wore on muggy days, as well as the pair of flipflops I had been wearing since we’d left the morgue. Everything I did had a sense of mundane-ness to it. I felt like I was doing chores. I had never done chores before. 

After combing my hair, I found myself wandering the motel’s hall. I looked at everything with intense curiosity.  _ Who walked here before me? How many hands have touched this railing? Has anyone died here? Why am I feeling this way? _

I found myself back at the door to Romeo’s and my own room, but couldn’t go back in. I dunno. Something in me didn’t want to. I don’t know why. 

I turned and looked at the room across from me, and without thinking, I’d attempted to open the door. 

Locked. Shit. 

I knocked softly and rested my head against the wood frame. 

It opened and there stood an equally philosophically distressed Mercutio. 

“Juliet?” 

“Can we talk? About anything? I despise being stuck in my own head, now.” 

“Of course, come on in.” 

 

. . . 

 

Mercutio and I sat in silence, watching different places in the room before I finally spoke. “Benvolio really loves you.” 

I don’t know why I said that. 

He looked at me. “Yeah. I wonder why.” 

More silence. 

“I’m scared, Mercutio.” 

“Why?” 

I looked at him and held a lock of my hair, squeezing it. “I don’t want to be like this anymore. I’m having second thoughts. I’ve never had second thoughts before. I’ve never had…  _ thoughts _ before.”    
He studied my face for a moment before looking to the wall once more. “I get it. No one’s happy right now.” 

“Why aren’t you happy, Mercutio?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Me neither.” 

“Ha.” 

… 

I didn’t realize I was crying again until I felt the tears down my neck. I looked, perplexed at my hands before attempting to wipe away the tears, but they refused to stop. “Oh,” I said flatly. “I’m crying.” 

Mercutio side-glanced me, before sitting up and pulling me into his side in an awkward kind of hug. He smelled like old cigarettes and perfume. He smelled like sweat and cakey makeup. He smelled like Verona. He smelled like home. 

I cried a little harder. 

“I miss Rosaline.” 

I hadn’t thought about my other cousin since the day before Tybalt died. 

“Rosaline,” Mercutio repeated. 

“Yeah, Rosaline.” 

I got the impression that Mercutio didn’t talk much when things got bad. He was always confusing me, and everyone around me. He confused me now because he started to speak. 

“I’ve been a drug addict for 3 years. I’ve been an alcoholic for 4. I’ve been self harming since I can remember, and everything I’ve ever done has hurt at least one person. Every single thing. I think, maybe, that’s why I’m sad. I feel like I’ll murder everyone who wanders in my life. It’s scary. It’s my fault we’re in this. I overestimate more than I should. I’m sorry. I don’t say that often, but I’m sorry. I killed your cousin. He deserved it, but I’m sorry. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I wouldn’t ever dream of hurting people, but I hurt every single person I meet by some twisted chance of fate.” 

He looked at me. He was crying too. 

“How do I tell someone I love them? How do I apologize? How do I tell someone I’m sorry?” 

I looked at him, there was a somber kind of acceptance in his eyes. Something I’d never seen before. “I don’t really know.” 

“I didn’t accept it. When Romeo said he had found love. He’s flighty. He gets bored easily. I was tired of him constantly moping, finding love in strange places. In phases. I didn’t want him to meet you. I didn’t want him to meet ‘the one’. I don’t get it. I don’t get Romeo. I’ve known him for the longest time.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” 

Mercutio looked at me and shook his head. “I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

“By Romeo?”    
“He’s not made for love. He’s not made for you.” 

“Stop that, Mercutio.” 

“You’re young, Juliet.” 

“I love him.” 

“I know.” 

“Why shouldn’t I love him?” 

… 

“When I look at you…” he sounded far away. Our shoulders were touching. “I see someone with the world in their hands. I see everyone I’ve ever hurt inside your eyes. When I look at Romeo I see me. I see the man who crushes. Am I making sense? I’m not. I’m not making sense. What I’m trying to say, Juliet, Is that you’re not supposed to be here. You’re young. You need to  _ be _ young. You and Benvolio don’t deserve this pain. Romeo and I shouldn’t get you. We don’t deserve you.” 

I stared at him for a really long time. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew what he was saying. I held his hand softly. “Don’t go.” 

“I have to.” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“Benvolio needs you.” 

“He’s been alone before.” 

“Has he?” 

“Yes.” 

“You’re all he has.” 

“I’m all he has.” 

We sat again, looking at each other. I couldn’t look away. 

“I need to smoke.” 

Mercutio got up and fished around his bag, pulling out a cigarette and grabbing a lighter. “You want one?” 

“Yeah.” 

He tossed me the box and I plucked one out, sighing, I put it between my lips as he leaned across the bed, kissing his cigarette to mine, lighting it. 

“Thanks,” I mumbled between the single. He smiled and tossed the pack and lighter back in his bag. I coughed between puffs. Why wasn’t nicotine addiction fast acting? I took it from between my lips and tapped it, the butt falling onto the carpet. 

“The whole world’s your ashtray, Jule.” 

“Yeah.” I coughed a little more and sighed. 

I noticed Mercutio itching his neck, almost nervous. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked. 

“I need to use.” 

“Use what?”    
“A drug. Any drug.”    
“Oh--” 

Before I could stop him, he was fishing through his bag again, cigarette tucked behind his ear. He kept getting more and more agitated before eventually, he had found what he was looking for. It was a bag of…  _ something _ , a spoon, and a tiny tube. He took those into the bathroom but didn’t shut the door. 

“Mercutio?” 

I heard him fidget with the bag and then heard a clinking in the spoon. I got up and moved to see him sat on the lid of the toilet, sucking the bagged stuff up through the tube as he heated it with the lighter over the spoon.    
“Mercutio?” I asked, voice more direct. 

He glanced up and pulled away, the tube still in his mouth. “Don’t worry,” he mumbled. “It helps me level.” 

“It looks illegal.” 

“It is.” 

And that was that. 

I stood there, watching him smoke whatever he was smoking before leaving the room. I stomped the cigarette out on the makeshift balcony in my room and sighed. I didn’t get much from that situation, but I got something. 

Mercutio needed help. 


	12. Mercutio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the waaiiittt!!

I managed to come down from my high relatively quick. I didn’t feel like staying in the room for much longer, which made me sad, upset. The coming down was the worst part. I felt sick and depressed. I moved out into the hall, tucking my hair into the back of my jacket and headed out. If I ran into Benvolio and Romeo on the way, oh well. 

I sniffled and pulled my jacket closer to my body as I entered the midday Hungarian weather. My feet felt frozen on the cold pavement and for a split second, I swore myself for not wearing shoes. 

I stopped in front of the motel, glancing up at the huge MOTEL sign on the front. I rolled my shoulders and sighed. I’d kill to be in a home right now. 

I wandered down the sidewalk. 

For some reason, it was really  _ cold _ in Hungary. The winds were bitter and the ground was so fucking cold. I grit my teeth and sighed. My hair began to slip out from my jacket and shied over my face. 

I stood by an intersection and looked around. Cars passed at higher speeds, and people who were out for the day talked and laughed around me. I suppose I looked rather odd, wearing tight faux-leather pants, a fishnet top, pasties, no  _ shoes _ , and a windbreaker a lot too small. 

I raised an eyebrow at a woman who was staring from across the street. I jerked my head forward and she backed up, almost afraid I think. 

I flipped her off and laughed, darting down the sidewalk chuckling to myself until I’d gotten to a park. 

The park sloped downward in an awkward fashion, making everything sort of tilt. The slide was steeper because of it, and the swings leaned forward. The see-saws seemed unfair, seeing as the person further down the hill wouldn’t ever get to go up, deeming them useless, and the playground seemed unstable at best. 

I sighed and took a seat on the precarious swingset. 

I swayed my feet a little and leaned my head on the metal chains. I tried to collect myself, but every time I thought about what we were doing I felt those stupid tears coming on. 

I attempted to swing, but since everything was on a decline, It was more or less just forward and stop, forward and stop. 

I kept doing this for a while until someone approached me from behind. 

“Need any help?” 

I glanced behind me. It was Benvolio. 

I laughed a little and gave myself a pathetic swing. “Maybe. Where’ve you been, Blondie?” 

“Getting food with Romeo. He took all the stuff back to our rooms. I decided to walk around, why not? Hungary’s a place we’ve never been to before.” 

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It’s also really fucking cold.”    
“That too,” Benvolio laughed. “Why’re you out?” he asked, leaning towards me and cupping my shoulders. He leaned forward, causing the swing to lurch forward, jolting me a little. “Don’t worry, I got you, I’ve got you,” he assured. 

I scrunched my face in anger before sighing. “Didn’t wanna be in that shitty room anymore. I just kinda walked out.” 

“I can tell,” Benvolio mused, pointing at my shoe-less feet. “Not many who choose to adventure forget their footwear.” 

“Not many, but some,” I argued. 

“It’s too cold to be feet commando,” he countered. 

“Yeah,” I nodded. “It is.” 

We sat like that--quiet--for a while. I clenched my jaw and searched wildly at the park. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he whispered. His breath plumed a cloud of grey beside my face. I felt his humid air on my cheek and went to touch it. “Nothing,” I answered. 

“No,” he murmured, moving his hands to wrap around my waist. Again, a lurch, and again, an  _ ‘i got you, I got you.’  _

I shook my head, my eyes stinging. I managed to grab the ground with the tip of my foot, slipping off the swing. Benvolio stuttered, the rubber seat catching his fall. 

My feet ached under the cold mulch. 

“Nothing is wrong,” I said. I couldn’t look at him. 

I heard him sigh, and the rattle of chains. “Mercutio.” 

His fingers touched my shoulders and I heaved a soft, quiet sob. “Don’t touch me,” I ordered, wretching my shoulder from him. I did it with such purpose, such diction, that I managed to turn myself around. He saw me at my most vulnerable. Tears fell down my cheeks and my face caved into a soft, saddened pout. “I don’t want to be touched.” 

“Mercutio, talk to me,” he offered again, reaching for me. I swatted his arm away with the back of my own. “I said don’t  _ touch _ me!” 

A flock of birds flew from a sad, dead tree. 

I swallowed hard, lip quivering. “I said…” 

Benvolio pursed his lips, folding and unfolding his arms. Suddenly, he looked so awkward in his own body, like he wasn’t supposed to be inside it. 

“You have to let me in,” he said. 

“You have no right to be let in,” I growled, unintentional hostility in my tone. 

His face got cold. “What?” 

“You…” I choked. “Have no right…” I couldn’t say it. Tears roared down my face, I coughed weakly. Holding my shoulders, I closed my eyes. 

Benvolio staggered forward, reaching for me as if I were some uneasy creature, a horse to be pet or a cat to be grabbed. I stared at his hand, the world kaleidoscopes around me through wet, glossy tears. I held my up, teeth grit before giving in. I placed my shoulder under his palm, and slowly, he pulled me into an embrace. He tucked my head under his shoulder and pressed a calming hand against the back of my head. 

“I forgive you.” 

I felt a shiver down my neck and inhaled shakily, ragged and sharp, before crying hard. 

It was loud, it hurt to hear myself so weak, but it hurt, even more, to feel Benvolio buckle above me, his own wet, sad eyes unscathed from the weight of what we were going through. He held me as we slowly crouched into the mulch, reassuring me he loved me, reassuring me we’d be okay. 

I didn’t want to be in Hungary anymore. 

  
  



End file.
